When the homing call sounds in early Spring and Sea Doves answer, 'tis Azrael fluting. The spark of energy in their snug bodies yields its force to another form of life and Eskimos hail their coming with wild exultation. Captain MacMillan tells how nostalgia spells death.
Now loud and clear, now diminishing to a low hum, the pulsating musical wingbeats fill all space. The birds that mean food, clothing and change from seal blubber, to the northern natives are back again. The dark Winter has passed, the larder is empty, the sun is mounting, the Eskimos living from hand to mouth. Then that glad cry, "Little Auks! little Auks" brings joy to every heart when the birds' bodies are eaten raw! Thousands are caught with scoop nets, dried, salted or frozen and the skins used for clothing. Destroyed by Foxes, Gulls, Ravens and submarine enemies, yet they seem to be as numerous as ever because homo sapiens walks not there.
Coasts, islands and waters of Arctic and North Atlantic. South in Winter to Cape Cod. Majority Winter on southern edge of ice pack.